Lifeline
by DisneyStar4Ever
Summary: "Benson wasn't there to read the jobs out, and in that instant, Mordecai knew something was up." A story on depression. Rated M for situation. Mordecai/Benson oneshot


**Lifeline**

**A/N This literally took me ages to write, possibly hours. I wanted to write a short Mordeson, but couldn't find a starting point. Finally, I did. The story deals with depression, about Benson sharing his thoughts with Mordecai. A few of my friends always tell me they want to die, they feel worthless, and I...I decided to write it in a story. A Mordeson one.**

Benson wasn't there to read the jobs out, and in that instant, Mordecai knew something was up. Skips hadn't said a word on the matter. It was like everyone had either ignored it or just not bothered to ask. Instead of going to do his job, Mordecai got up from the step when everyone had left and walked to Bensons apartment.

Taking the elevator to the last floor, he wandered through the various hallways till he saw Bensons apartment door. Stopping in front of it, he knocked softly.

"Who is it?"

"It's Mordecai."

There was a shuffling of feet then the sound of a bolt being pulled away from the lock. Finally, the door opened slightly, revealing Benson standing there with black bags under his eyes. He stepped aside, not bothering to ask why he was at his apartment. Mordecai looked around. He followed Benson into the kitchen where he was setting up for a cup of coffee.

"Benson?"

Mordecai quietly stepped up next to him. Benson flicked the jug. "Why didn't you come into work?"

Benson sighed.

Mordecai bit his lip. "I'm just worried-"

"Have you ever heard of depression, Mordecai?" Benson said, turning sharply.

Oh. Mordecai nodded. Benson closed his eyes as he dipped his head low. "Depression might seem like something everyone goes through, and yes, this is right. But some go through it stronger than others."

Mordecai's eyes flickered to the boiling jug. Benson flicked it to off, turned and began to fix two cups of coffee. It was as if he was automatic. He handed one to Mordecai then walked to the lounge, where he sat in a chair, the coffee cup in his hand. Mordecai sat across from him. He set his cup down on the table.

"Depression has run in my family, through my mother to my father. Basically, my entire family has had it. There is medication for it, but I choose not to take it. I guess I thought I could get through this, let it consume me until it gave up entirely and left me. But it never left."

Mordecai stayed silent.

"My job at the park is the only thing keeping me together, Mordecai. I've had a pretty rough past and this added depression doesn't help me whatsoever." He took the cup with both hands, but didn't take a sip, letting the warmth sink into his body. "I choose to think of you guys as family, but at times I want to rip your heads off. I'm not sure whether that's the depression or the anger you and Rigby throw onto me that makes me want to do such violent things."

"It's like your sinking into a black hole, with no one around you. You're alone in whatever you do, whatever you say, wherever you go. Your beliefs are tied against you, not knowing what's going to happen to you in 10 years time." He looked up, his grip on the cup becoming tighter. "You get so frustrated, so mad that no one cares about you so you resort to cutting. You cut, you bleed, and you smile. The pain has gone. But then it crawls back and takes you down with it, down to a black abyss that no one ever leaves unless-"

The cup shattered in his hands, the scalding hot coffee burning him. Benson screamed. Mordecai's eyes widened. He stood up and raced to the bathroom. He wet a flannel then came back. Kneeling down, he pressed the flannel against Bensons arms. Benson hissed.

"I'll get some ice." Mordecai stood and raced to the kitchen. He pulled an ice pack from the freezer then ran back. Gently taking the flannel off, he wrapped the ice pack in it, then placed it on his arms. Benson held it there. Mordecai waited for a few minutes. Soon, Benson hissed again and slowly took the flannel away. His arms had gone a light shade of red, spreading through from his elbows to his hands.

Mordecai bit his lip. He took the ice pack and went to go put it back in the freezer. When he came back, he saw Benson leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Mordecai knelt down and began to pick up the pieces of the broken cup. When he had finished, he took the flannel and cleaned up the coffee stain. He stood, went to the kitchen to dispose of the broken porcelain, went to the laundry to dump the flannel, then came back. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair.

"Unless..." Mordecai looked up at Benson, to see his eyes opened, his hands clutching his arms. "Someone saves you from the darkness. It's a rare chance. Some are brave enough to, some don't bother. But the ones who do, are the ones worth living for."

Mordecai felt this heavy feeling envelope him as Benson carried on.

"I don't want to be alone, Mordecai. Nobody does. Everyday, I feel like I'm falling into this...pit of emptiness, but you know what? I carry on. I don't let this depression get to me, even though it kills me inside. Even though I know who I am, I feel like I don't. I don't want to be who I am sometimes. I regret getting up, I regret stepping out my door, I regret going to work, because I know, that each step I take, the depression is clawing away inside of me, slowly eating away my happiness, until I am a hollow shell of miserable and sad emotions that never leave."

Benson didn't cry. He just sat in the chair, his arms burning. A sob rose in Mordecai's throat. He had heard of depression, but never had he ever been told of what it was like. An old school friend he had made in primary had it, but he had overcome it. Or so Mordecai thought.

Mordecai blinked back tears. The boy had been a cutter, as Benson had said. Everyday, he came to school with cuts across his arms. And he told everyone his cat had scratched him, that the ginger tabby was a fighter, a mean nasty thing. Except there was no cat. There never was a cat.

Mordecai had tried, begged him, persuaded him that there was more to life than cutting yourself. But the boy didn't listen. He continued, ignoring the tears that fell for him, the cries that yelled for him, the hands that snatched the razor...all from Mordecai.

He had discovered the boy to be dead. He had cut too much and lost too much blood. It was his mother who found him.

Mordecai sobbed now at the memory. He slipped off the chair and collapsed in a heap, the palms of his hands pressed up against his face to keep the tears in.

Benson looked up and saw Mordecai sitting on the carpet. He stood and went over. Kneeling down, he gently took Mordecai's hands away from his face.

"Mordecai?"

Mordecai chocked back another sob threatening to rise in his throat as he looked through blurry vision at Benson, who was looking back, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to find the answer to his sudden burst of sobs. Benson wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in a hug without a word. Mordecai cried silently on his shoulder. Soon, he calmed down, his sobs becoming sniffs and hiccups. Mordecai pulled back, to wipe the tears from his face. He stood and went to the bathroom. When he came back he saw Benson was pouring the cold coffee in the sink.

Mordecai approached him. When Benson put the cup in the sink, he looked up, to see Mordecai's face cleaned and washed. Mordecai smiled and hugged Benson again.

Benson hissed. Mordecai bit his lip and pulled back. "Sorry." He rested a hand on his arm, and the burning seem to go down, but only a little. Benson closed his eyes. He breathed out, then opened them. "It's ok."

"Has anyone ever saved you from your depression?"

Benson looked up at him again. "No." He answered, his gaze dropping for a second.

Mordecai took his hand off his arm and made a move to go, but Benson took his arm. "I've never told anyone about this Mordecai. It's a dark secret of mine. If anyone found out, I could get teased and ridiculed from a lot of people. So don't tell anyone, ok?"

Mordecai stepped back to look at him. He smiled. "Ok." He said softly. Benson let his arm go and Mordecai walked to the door. Benson followed him, and was surprised when Mordecai suddenly stopped at the door. He turned. "Do you think anyone will save you?"

Benson looked up at Mordecai and smiled. He leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "They already have."

**I poured my heart out into this story. This is what I imagine depression to feel like. I'm thinking it's because I'm a teen, but I've had my fair share of feeling depressed and upset. I just wrote what I felt when I had felt like that, what I've heard from my friends, seen on tv and read in various fanfics.**


End file.
